


Of Military and Commoners

by Billie_Barnes



Category: Turn (TV 2014), Turn: Washington's Spies
Genre: Comedy, Drama, F/M, Romance, Slice of Life, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-11-18 21:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11299203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Billie_Barnes/pseuds/Billie_Barnes
Summary: When the freak storm hits the city of Melbourne, the Reader and a bunch of her boarders, are graced with the arrival of some handsome princes from their dreams. But are they all who they cracked up to be?Feat: Washington, Lafayette, Andre, Hamilton, Tallmadge, Hewlett (later in the story)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note:  
> I know- it's not historically accurate.  
> I know - it pokes fun at hipsters, and even downright kicks the idea of them around. If you don't like it, well, okay. Don't read ahead, heads up.  
> I know - if it does enter mary sue territory, please kindly let me know.  
> I know - not all of you will associate with the reader. There is a highly likely chance that this character reflects the writer because, what other point of reference can they use if they don't know others the best.  
> I know - the writer hasn't seen Turn AMC *le gasp!* but I am keenly interested in this fandom due to tumblr and pics and a few Youtube clips. I live in Australia and it doesn't exist on Netflix in Australia. It is on iTunes store but boy it is expensive.  
> If there are character mess ups, please let me know, and I will re-edit it once I get more facts. Thanks. 
> 
> If you guys have feedback or constructive criticism, that's acceptable. Otherwise, have fun.

I smiled and gently shut the lid of my laptop. There was an overwhelming feeling of euphoria, pleasure and warmth emanating from my heart which escaped from lips as a sigh. Part 6 of LousianaSpell’s “Among the Pines” left a little bit of heat upon my cheek. My fingers trailed up to my lips, and I touched it where Hamilton’s lips should have been but instead a mere fantasy.  
“You never cease to amaze me.” I thought. The sun just set on a cold winter’s day in July, and I was snug in my bedroom with my third cup of tea sitting on the desk next to me. The icon at the top of my laptop notified that a storm was headed out way, to which my mind began to cook up a storm of its own. I often wondered where time travel stories like this were on the internet. Often the fanfictions I read were about the reader character being part of that world, or being in a Modern!AU setting of the story. But none were like Louisiana’s – a future girl meets a guy of the past. It was nice to escape to a time a bit slower than the ones of the modern age. It was a time when manners and politeness was a norm rather than the coarseness of what is the modern age. I dreamed of meeting a man like that, but I too was also desiring advancement, freedom, a career, a life.  
“Girl, are you still reading that fanfiction?”  
I jumped at how close that voice was to my ear. A pair of fingers jabbed into my sides and I felt the laptop slip out of my fingers as I gasped.  
“British! What the hell! You scared me!” I scowled playfully.  
The small statured Singapore-Malay exchange student laughed. She had a sweet round face that often had a pair of thin-rimmed glasses sitting atop her nose. Often, she wore mainstream fashion- today’s fashion being skinny jeans a black nirvana t-shirt and red hoodie. This was contrasted to me, a reasonably tall Chinese-French blooded Australian with thick hipster glasses (for my myopia!), a white fitting blouse, waistcoat and tie, skinny ripped jeans, and gloves. I admit it, I can be a hipster at times, after all, we live in Melbourne, one of the most hipster capitals in Australia. The little laneways held snug cavities for vegan cafes, eateries dedicated to smashed avocado, and a lot of op-shops up and down the streets near the CBD, these were trademarks of a hipster city.  
And I hated it. I hated the fact that I may fall into the category of hipster, and I hated the fact that hipster is becoming mainstream, and the mainstream stuff becoming trash. Sure, it was cute and all, but when it came to pushing the ideas and aesthetic of hipster, it was really degrading what it used to stand for. Now it’s just become a mess of unguided, aimless rebellion.  
But I digress from the matter.  
Back to the story.  
I stood up from my chair, allowing her to take a seat and read the story for herself. Upon my walls of my room were a few notes and a few black and white laminated laser printed pictures of the characters from my favourite anime and shows. They were scattered across one wall while the rest of the walls were clean, except a small string with pegged photos and quotes. There was one that stood out: the weekly schedule and daily chores list for myself and the rest of the household. British wasn’t the only stranger living in this small townhouse. In fact, it became my livelihood that I let strangers live with me. Now, a fellow uni student and a high school exchange student from Japan has come to stay with me for this year. Mum and Dad live in a home just a block away from us, rendering me with the glorious purpose of managing and homemaking the boarding house. Even the odd beyond-the-call-of-duty “surrogate social worker” was also a part of the job, but it was the part that I enjoyed.  
And I got paid for it.  
“Awww, that is sooo sweet! Hamilton, you are the man!” said British. She closed the browser to reveal the TURN wallpaper that was on my screen. On it, the character’s eyes bore into mine: Lafayette, Washington, Andre, Tallmadge, Hamilton, Hewlett. I felt a warmth travel down me, and in an instant, my mind was made up- I needed to get a workout. I stripped off my clothes and replaced them with a pair of short shorts, a crop top, gloves, and my palladium baggy boots.  
“Look I’m not even American and I love these gentlemen.” I said with a sigh. My friend didn’t even bother looking away as I got changed. She knew it was a sign of my emotional high getting the best of me- working out was the way I vented those feelings. It happened so often that now my body was toned and lean.  
“Keep this up and they may just jump out of the screen to lick your abs.”  
I blushed at that, but secretly thanking her for more chemical reactions that made me move. And with that, she left the room for me to workout in. The next hour was me staring at them, following a few circuits of Darebee Combat HIIT and ab training along before I exhausted myself out to warrant a shower. I darted down the hall to the bathroom with a few clothes in hand as a crack of thunder reined in. I held back a scream as I found shelter in the bathroom shower. I cranked on the hot water, scrubbing off the sweat and the lust that I felt for dramatic portrayals of real figures. I laughed a little at one of them, but as I did so, the lights suddenly went out. My fingers fumbled across the handles as I turned them off and stepped out of the shower. I reached for my phone and turned on the light.  
“I think it might be a black out, or a short circuit.” I yelled out from an open door. British, Kyoko, and Chris all called out in acknowledgement. Their weary heads and phone flashlights making a cold halo around them. They soon went back into their rooms and I slipped out, heading for the front porch where the circuit breaker was. I could feel the coolness of the winter nip from the windows, and with a deep breath, I opened the door, a mere towel around my body. But out in front of the porch I saw a bright flash of light and a crash before me. A gust of wind blew me back into the brick wall, skinning my elbow against a nick in the metal breaker box. Picking myself up, I turned around and turned the fuses on and off. The lights returned as the rain storm stopped. I could hear the rain slow to a trickle, and the thunder stopped.  
I sighed a little but as I turned around, there on our front garden were five weirdly dressed men in uniform. They were soaking wet, and their faces cinched in tears and rain. Their bodies lay on the wet logged grass, but they were lucky to have their cloaks spread out beneath them as to take most of the rain. The light from the porch lit up the way, and soon they were pushing themselves off the ground, seething in pain.  
“General!”  
“Major, you’re…here.”  
The Redcoat made eye contact with the handsome looking man with the helmet. They nodded together before helping each other up. The other three got up as well. They were wearing similar uniforms- the colour blue being the unifying factor. The redcoat was probably a prisoner, I reasoned. But how they seemed to be behaving was quite classy, I thought with a smirk.  
“Well, Mr Hamilton, Mr Andre, Mr Tallmadge, Monsieur, it seems we’re are in quite an interesting circumstance.” Said the oldest man in the group. He picked up his tricorn hat off the ground and placed it on his head with dignity.  
“Indeed so, sir.” Said the one named Tallmadge.  
“I agree.” Said the Redcoat named Andre.  
Wait…their names….  
Does that mean….  
My fingers trailed up to my mouth, and I shuffled silently across the back wall, trying hard to not make a noise, but then I remembered….the security door in front of my normal door made loud clatters and screaks in the wind.  
And it did.  
The men turned around, the spotlight on a naked Eurasian girl trying to sneak away from them in the dead of Melbourne winter, and her eyes wide.  
“…Mon dieu!” came a dainty frenchman’s voice.  
“Ummmm, er…” I managed to splutter.  
Why was this starting to feel familiar…?  
Hmm, I wonder.


	2. Chapter 2

We stared at each other for a few painful seconds, the wind brushing over my shivering form until Andre made his way forward to cover me with his cloak. Nice gesture, I thought, but it doesn’t help that the cloak was wet.  
“You’re cold.” He said.  
“Ummm, well, oh.” I spluttered as the cloak was placed around my shoulders. The men entered the porch with me and they stared at the illumination above us. Washington and Tallmadge’s eyes scanned the rest of the street which overlooked the skyline of Melbourne. The lights twinkled in their eyes and my gaze glazed over the men. Am I hallucinating this? As they looked around, my fingers instinctively reached out and gently poked them.  
“Oh my god. You’re…” I trailed off. The gentlemen turned around back to me, their eyes interrogating me. I blinked a little until I snapped out of it.  
“Oh, please, come inside. It’s cold out here.” I said, even though I thought it was a horrible idea to practice. The men entered the open-plan area. The kitchen on the left, the dining, hallway and lounge area to the right. The ceiling was decently high with the lights on a dim romantic ambience. The men sat down on the lounges and I asked them to give me a few moments as I dashed back to the bathroom with the towel just teasing them with a bit of butt. I turned on the central heater as I entered the bathroom.  
I panted once I got inside, my phone still on the counter. I dumped a quick spurt of hot shower water on myself first then stepped out again to dry up and dress up; a ‘Hamilton’ mid-riff baseball shirt, black ballet flat slippers and grey capris leggings. A wash of confidence came back over me as I went back to the room. The gentlemen were still there in the room, but instead marvelling at the strange black boxes in front of the black slate upon the wall; the cold metallic cupboard in the cooking area, and the black slates on the table.  
“There are an awful lot of windows to nowhere.” Smirked Andre. The men chuckled in agreement.  
“So, um, how did you get here?” I asked, shyly, creeping out from the hallway. The gentlemen’s eyes met mine after they briefly flashed down at my legs. I recognised them; they looked and sounded exactly as the actors portrayed them. Their eyes quickly darted to one another before they went back to mine.  
“Well, miss….” Began Washington.  
“(f/n) (l/n).” I replied, taking a seat on the floor. Thoughts in my mind danced to the possibilities; how else can I take this meeting with these rarities of life? Should I get them a coffee? But then again, it was Ten o’ clock at night, not the best idea. Would they even know what it is? Should I offer them some food? But in my mind, the only thing I could think of in our shared pantry was instant ramen, mac and cheese, and salad. Probably not a manly meal for these manly men.  
“We appreciate your hospitality. But can you tell us where we are now? What is this place?” asked Tallmadge. His helmet now on the coffee table, revealing his soft dark blonde locks. How should I explain this? My thoughts twisted in brief hysteria; was this a joke? Should I play along? How should I start, assuming this is real?  
“Ummm, you are in Toorak, Melbourne. The country of Australia.” I eventually said.  
“And, may I ask, what year is it?” asked Hamilton. Okay, here it goes girl, I thought, better word it carefully. I felt the need to question them, but I didn’t want to do it in a way that sounded demeaning.  
“….What year did you remember yourselves in? If you like, you can take a playful gamble as to the year and I’ll tell you the answer at no cost.” I managed to say. Hamilton’s eyebrows rose a little, a sad smile twitching upon Andre’s lips.  
“October, Seventeen-Eighty.” He sighed. I quickly whipped out my iphone and googled.  
“John Andre, British Spy, Born Second May, Seventeen-Fifty and died Second October Seventeen-Eighty” read the writing on the screen.  
I hummed sadly, my eyes blinking out the tears that threatened to grace my face. I nodded, realising where they may have come from. I wondered if the man may have felt a pang of relief, knowing that he may not die after all for what he had done, considering they have left the theatre of wartimes. But instead will his heart be shaken and broken for suddenly being pulled from the familiar?  
“I see….” I said, and I took a deep breath.  
“Would….would you like to have something warm to drink before I tell you?” I continued, but the men shook their heads.  
“…Alright, this is the year Twenty-Seventeen. Nearly three hundred years after where you’ve come from.” I said slowly.  
Their eyes widened; time stood still and they froze in place where they were. Lafayette trembling hands reached towards the hands of the closest man: Washington’s, and entwined his fingers with his in a squeeze. I saw it under the table.  
The poor Frenchman, I felt so sorry for him. A foreign country, a traitor and now a time travel trip.  
“Umm, do you need space? I can let you stay here in my home if you need it.” I offered.  
“Sir, we need to stay, we don’t have much choice, and we’ve established rapport with this woman.” Said Tallmadge to his superior. The older man nodded.  
“You’ve been very kind to us Miss (l/n), we will gratefully accept your invitation.” He said.  
I smiled shyly and got up.  
“Well, I am glad to have you here.”  
Lafayette eventually piped up, his porcelain face cracking a little.  
"I'd like some water please."  
"Warm or cold?" I asked.  
His eyes met mine, they danced in the ambient lights of the sitting area.  
"...anything is good." he replied.  
I walked over and kneeled down next to him, squeezing his free hand.  
"Hey, you're going to be fine. I'll take care of all of you until you get back on your feet again. I trust that Mr Washington, Hamilton, Tallmadge, and Andre will help you and each other through this madness." I assured him with a smile.  
I saw a upturn in his lips with his gentle 'merci bien'  
It was a sight to beheld- I wanted to hug him, and so I did. I felt his gasp and a sigh in my chest for a few seconds before I broke off to get him a glass of warm water.  
That was until...  
"Tadaima!" came a voice at the door. Kyoko's twin, Mariko, soaked to the bone with dripping wet plastic bags of ramen, mochi, tea, meat, and asian vegetables, burst into the room, kicking off her shoes into the messy shoe rack.  
I instinctively called back "Okaeri Nasai!" cheerfully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Google Translate 
> 
> merci bien = thanks a lot (French)   
> Tadaima! = I'm home! (Japanese)   
> Okaerinasai! = Welcome Home (Japanese) 
> 
>  
> 
> And I know; it's not historically accurate.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not historically accurate (duh!) 
> 
> Google Translate:   
> Arigatou Gozaimashita = Thank you very much (formal) (Japanese)   
> Sama = (formality meaning 'Sir' or 'Madam')   
> Iiedakimasu = "Let's eat" , "Bon appetite!"

I forgot that our guests were sleeping as I let out a definitive “Hyaaaaa!” as my foot slam into the torso of Kyoko. But alas, Mariko stepped in and performed a sweeping kick to my vulnerable leg and I felt myself instantly in air, and my fists reaching out to counter-grab Mariko’s fists that went for my face. We both went down on the floor and I quickly held her in a lock.  
“What…?” came a soft voice.   
We looked up, frozen in our position. Tallmadge and Hamilton’s hair were out in a messy tangle, their uniform in a slight disarray. Their eyes widened and their skin dropped a few shades.   
“Oh.” I said, scrambling up off my position, dusting off and straightening my outfit. I was wearing my black gi along with my companions.  
“Umm, do you need any breakfast? I can quickly whip up something for you.”  
“Breakfast would be nice.” Tallmadge replied. The sun sparkled down, his eyes matching the clear blue sky. In the reflection of the window, I could see the twin’s eyes glistening as they looked at the men. Back in the living room, I could see Washington and Lafayette starting to stir from their slumber. The fancy wig abandoned for a tuft of brown, boyish hair belonged to the frenchman. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to reach out and stroke his hair, but I darted through the area into the kitchen.  
“Shit, we have no eggs. I’m going to have to run.” I mumbled.  
“Mr Hamilton, Mr Tallmadge,” I called out “, I’m going to get you breakfast, but I need to dash down to the Metro Woolies quickly. I won’t be too long!”  
I snatched my house keys, wallet and slipped on my sketchers, dashing out of the door to a confused “What?”  
Oh, I forgot.  
I couldn’t have been away for more than 15 minutes, but when I came home, I found the Twins, Chris and British chatting it up with the gentlemen at the dining table. I pushed the door behind me and kicked off my shoes, dashing over to the kitchen to put the groceries on the table.   
“Tadaima!” I called out.   
“Okaeri Nasai!!” everyone called out, except for the gentlemen.   
Chris chuckled as she walked past me. She was a muscular woman who often competed in triathlons or obstacle courses if she had the spare time, but due to her career (a Crown Prosecutor), she is often out at odd hours and sleeps in the day. It must be her day off.   
“My (f/n) never thought we’d be getting some legitimate food in this household.” She walked by with a swag of trash, a smirk on her face. I glared back, a smirk and sweatdrop following me as I made my way back to the kitchen. As I began cooking, I could hear the twins recounting to the gentlemen about life back in Japan. They enthusiastically told them about their love for the european aesthetics, which manifested into the kawaii culture.   
“Non non, tell me about your culture. Where do you come from?”   
“We come from Japan, a country off the coast of China and Korea, the city of Osaka.”   
“There is something really enchanting about you ladies,” laughed the frenchman. “, I love your black hair and your eyes are just bewitching.”   
I could hear the giggles erupting from all of our throats. The Twins continued to tell their stories about Japan, Lafayette prompting and examining them about their music, fashion, food, and history.   
“Really! You ladies are privelaged to have many many a memory in your blood. The Orientals are really fascinating now that you reveal much about your rich history. You must be proud of it.” He gushed.   
“Lafayette-sama, Arigatou Gozaimashita! We welcome you anytime you want to come to Osaka. If you want to, we can teach you Japanese if you like.” Said Kyoto.   
I perked up at this, realising an advantage we had.   
“Mr Washington, I have a suggestion for you,” I began, turning off the stove. On the stove was a pot of finished ramen, Shoyu broth, seaweed, beef, and egg. Their final destination was the bowl, and our bellies.   
“Yes, Miss (l/n), what do you suggest?”   
“How about you learn an Asian language with us? Mr Tallmadge told me about what you do, and considering that, if you were to ever return to your time and you wish to avoid giving away information accidentally.”   
Hamilton glanced my way, a cup of black coffee in his hands.   
“Tell me about the nature of the Asian languages? How easy is it to learn?” Hamilton asked.   
“Well,” I said, sliding the bowls to them “, it depends on which Asian language you want to learn. Take a pick.”   
The gentlemen stared down at their noodles, an eyebrow flicked ever so slightly upon the General’s face.   
“What’s this?”   
“Shoyu Ramen with Beef, Egg and Seaweed. It’s what we usually have in the morning.” I explained. The others returned to the table with chopsticks and forks for our guests.   
“Ittedakimasu!” we said, and dug in.   
The gentlemen took a steady sip of the broth, a warmth slightly appearing on their face. The twins and I happily slurped down the noodles, taking mouthfuls of the broth along. The travellers looked in our direction, astounded at how two sticks could be masterfully used in the art of consumption.   
“It’s like this.” I said, showing them how to use chopsticks. I went to get them a pair and handed them the chopsticks. I stood between Washington and Hamilton, my slender fingers slipping between their thick leathery fingers. I placed the chopsticks in their fingers, and slipped my fingers over Hamilton’s. His hands felt warm to the touch, with my head just resting on his shoulder as I mimicked the use of chopsticks in his hand.   
“You just move your pointer finger as if you were pulling a trigger while holding a pencil or pen at the same time, but don’t let go. Keep your fingers together.”   
He nodded, and I could feel him inhaling the scent of my hair.   
I went over to the others and did the same, Lafayette having the most fun with his boyish grin.   
“This is quite ingenious! And I love the patterns on the ends of them.” he exclaimed. When I went over to Tallmadge, I could see him fumbling around with the fish cake I got everyone to practice with.   
“Blast! What on earth? Who invented these? Why would you have something like this?”   
“I really don’t know, but if you’re hungry, I can get you some forks and spoons.”   
Tallmadge took a breath in, and I took hold of his hands. I could feel the scars and hair of his hands in mine, and he was trembling in a silent rage of being bested by two pieces of splinter.  
“It’s like this. It’s not too hard to get the hang of. It’s like holding two pencils while writing at the same time.” I encouraged, moving the chopsticks in his hand.   
“See?”   
I felt a joyful rumble beside me coming from Washington, now a master at the chopsticks. Yarns of ramen sat in his chopsticks as he brought it up to his mouth. While a bit slipped from his chopsticks, along with an ‘op!’, he smiled.   
“Don’t worry, Benjamin, we can always practice with these fine ladies to be of our assistance.” he said.   
“In case you are ever out in the wild with no cutlery, you can always get two sticks of similar thickness and length and just use them like so.” I suggested.   
Chris joined in.   
“It’s quite a common piece of cutlery in the Asian nations.”   
After a few minutes of eating, Tallmadge and went back to a previous matter at hand just as the noodles slipped back into the bowl and splashed a bit onto his waistcoat.   
“Tell me more about the Asian languages, particularly their writing system and vocabulary.”   
I sat up, eagerly awaiting for this moment. I walked over to my ipad and turned on the screen, much to Andre’s amusement.   
“So they do open to a view of sorts.”   
“It’s complicated really, but it’s quite the crux of the world you are in now. In fact, in a way, it’s the oxygen of this world.”   
I opened up a world map and slid it in front of them.   
“Well, Asia consists of countries such as India, China, Japan, Thailand, Singapore, Malaysia, Philippines, Korea, you name it. These nations here.” I said, pointing and then gesturing to them the Asian nations.   
“Each country has it’s own unique dialect, and surprisingly, they don’t sound the same or are written the same. It’s strange considering how close they are geographically together.”  
“What language do you recommend we learn? What is the easiest?” Tallmadge asked. His voice seemed more urgent than ever as he leaned toward me. I could feel my lip being bitten into in concern.   
“That’s the thing- it’s really hard learning these new languages. It depends on what you pick up first in a language. For example, if you can understand syllables first, then Japanese may be for you. If you pick up tones quickly, than Chinese or Thai may be for you. Mind you, in all these countries, the writing systems is unlike anything you’ve ever seen. It’ll be perfect for you.”   
That is if you return to your time, I thought to myself. Why would fate, God, or whatever you, my dear reader, chose to believe in, drop them down here in Melbourne than let them be?  
I could see Washington’s spoon stirring the broth, his brows furrowed. The other men were doing the same, except for Andre who just stared off blankly. The man was really good at the poker face, unlike me, who was often described as an ‘open book’ no matter how hard I tried. Maybe I needed to be more dead inside, just like Andre before he came to my time.   
“Mister Washington, you’ve captured me and sentenced me to death. I’ve already failed as a spy, so there is no point in keeping secrets from me any longer. I will not run if we were to return. You have my word.” he assured.   
“Even if you did, how are you going to survive here?” asked British.   
The man chuckled, his brow curls falling loose of his braid.   
“You’ll be surprised. Maybe I can start a new venture.”   
I nodded, remembering what happened in the series between that brief encounter with Townsend. In those moments when he mentioned his dabbling habits, his eyes danced in a melancholy to the possibilities of what he might have been had he not become a spy for His Majesty the King.   
Did this man, or any of the men, have any regrets?   
Was there something they wished to tell me?


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gets a bit dark, and maybe a bit controversial. Reader discretion advised. 
> 
> It covers briefly the topic of the current 2017 US presidency, but mostly covers or directly addresses 9/11. It does have an element of opinion on it (maybe), so heads up.  
> Also, when it happened, I was a little girl (around 6 years old) and my family was living in Sydney (Australia), so my views and understanding of this event is quite different to those in the USA of whom this issue is closer to their heart.  
> Please avoid this chapter if it may be sensitive. 
> 
> RIP Victims of 9/11. You will be missed and never forgotten. 
> 
> Also, thanks for the feedback you guys! And the commenter that suggested bringing on the snags, a special mention to you- you got your wish...sort of. I will add a bit more fleshed out version of it later in the story. 
> 
> Also, as always, thanks to LouisianaSpell's support and her fanfic 'Among the Pines' - this story would not have been made possible.

We spent the afternoon talking about the modern world. My soul exploded in excitement as it reverberated the uncertainty away from the hearts of the men. We talked mostly of the immediate history; from the smartphones, social media, and to the elections in the USA.  
“How dreadful! A divisive leader as the President of the United States!? That is unacceptable!”  
“Democracy.” I coughed fretfully.  
“But people will always fight for what they believe to be true. Nothing much can be done for humans will always want to rebel against the ‘enemy’, whoever that is.” Murmured Kyoko, her eyes glazed over in darkness. There was an uncomfortable silence that hung over the men, it shackled them to their seats as Kyoko got up from her seat to get a Matcha Tea.  
“I dare ask…where is the danger now? Is America under threat?” asked Tallmadge. His eyes met mine again, a flame of determination in his eyes. My eyes turned slightly a shade indigo as I looked away.  
“It’s a long story, but…yes, life as you know it has dramatically shifted.”  
I explained to them the advent of the rise of America, but also the growing dissent from other nations who grew to hate America.  
“As a result, we had….World Wars...and Nine-Eleven, or the terrible attacks on the Western World by radical extremists.”  
I felt the corner of my eyes sting as whispers from the past echoed in the dark recesses of my memories.

Many years ago……  
“Oh my god…”  
I felt myself walking downstairs towards my family, gathered in front of the TV and their eyes widened. Mum’s mouth agape and a tear running down her face. On the TV, I could hear sirens screaming in despair and anguish as firemen rushing towards the scene, and then a few seconds later the city of New York enveloped in smoke and ash. Doves of paper and a cold silence ushered in a new age of paranoia and conflict.  
“Mummy?”  
My father and mother turned around, a hand placed upon my shoulder.  
“There…there has been an attack in America….a terrorist attack.”  
“This will change…everything.”  
“What about all those people in the building…? Are they…dead?” I asked.  
A similar grey aura filled the air, and a silence came across us.  
“My friend worked in that building…” muttered Dad.  
For the next few days we stayed at home. Sometimes there were people clad in black that came over to visit Dad, which I soon found out that his friend was somewhere on the top of the towers, and thus died in the attacks. A few times when we were out shopping for groceries, I remembered seeing armed police patrolling up and down the streets along with men being tackled to the ground and the wailing sirens from the hysteria. While it soon faded to memory, I never forgotten the large grey gate memorials in the airport, the blue men and women who now stood ever so solemnly by them to grant us safe passage.  
But on that day, I remember my mother’s words- they were felt hollow with a ring of fear.  
“Trust your instincts, (f/n). Trust yourself before you trust others.”

Present Day…  
“On that day, America and her allies were given a grim reminder of the horrors that we committed will be repaid, and that we lived in a cage of ignorance, and blinded by the naivety of Democracy and egalitarianism- the safety of our world. We are no longer safe….How can we humans ever live peacefully if we use oppressive, destructive means to achieve it? Would we not be hypocrites- the monsters we despised so much? How can we ever hope to help others find freedom if we’ve never had the chance to relive and understand the people of other worlds? What if they already have what is freedom to them, and instead we left them in a void of anarchy?” I finished.  
“Truly, humanity lost almost all hope…we still have it but tis a mere kindling of embers in the cold winter…” muttered Kyoko in her usual mind reading state. I nodded, much to the despair of the guests.  
“Nay, after that attack, the world was plunged into a world of surveillance, and yet that still never stopped the attacks.” said Chris, passing us by. She was clad in her barrister robes and wig as she gestured towards the news. On the  
Ben’s eyes turned a stormy blue momentarily as they gazed at the ground, but they quickly flinched back towards me, an arm wrapped around my back, soothingly rubbing it.  
“I’m...so sorry you had to experience that. Things...really are different now...I cannot be so naive to think that...you’d let us in your home just like that after what happened.” he whispered.  
“But, we still have hope- we are alive, as much as you are. You can change the world, Miss (l/n)! You may be one person, but look at us, we are only one person, and yet we did extraordinary things!” encouraged Lafayette, his hand holding one of mine.  
“And, you’ve been so kind as to let us into your home despite such fearful times. It takes courage to just do that. We shouldn’t’ take you and your friends for granted.” said Washington.  
There was a silence as you took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down from your rant. You wondered if it was such a good idea to bring it up in the first place- 9/11 and the ongoing tension in the world.  
“Well, looks like we went down a dark path. I’m sure we can figure something out. I mean,” you began, standing up to prepare dinner. Everyone stood up with me, their hands falling away.  
“Excuse me, Miss (l/n), while...it might be a strange request, but, would you...like to make dinner with me?” asked Andre, his eyes glistening.  
You chuckled a little, astounded from how far he could see into your soul.  
“Why? Of course, a little help goes a long way. Come into the kitchen with me.” you gestured, entering the kitchen.  
“What’s for dinner tonight?”  
“Let’s see…”you mutter, opening the fridge and blinding the man with the white light inside.  
“Hmmm, let’s see. Ah! Some snag sliders- cheese, sausages, spinach, and sweet chilli tomato sauce.” you manage to say, pulling out the items and putting them in his hands.”  
“...’snags’?”


End file.
